


let's play a little more

by fairylock



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Serial Killers, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairylock/pseuds/fairylock
Summary: It starts when Sungyeol develops a small disliking for the pizza delivery boy.





	let's play a little more

**Author's Note:**

> Very obviously inspired by Red Velvet's "Peek-A-Boo" music video. I haven't written anything in months and this is somehow what gets me to write again. I've never written anything like this before so I'm not sure about it but, well, maybe someone will like it lol.

It starts when Sungyeol develops a small disliking for the pizza delivery boy. Scratch that—a  _ severe _ disliking for the pizza delivery boy. Sungyeol barely glances at the nametag on his shirt (it’s something that starts with a J or an M, maybe even S? Sungyeol can’t be bothered to give a fuck), grabbing the box of pizza and shoving the right amount of money into his hands. The boy seems startled at the abrupt gesture but still makes way to bow, and Sungyeol slams the door in his face before he can give his goodbyes.

 

“That wasn’t nice,” Myungsoo points out with a raised eyebrow, following Sungyeol into the dining room.

 

Sungyeol scoffs. Like he cares. “He was flirting with you,” he explains, as if that’s reason enough. Which it is. Nobody flirts with his  _ boyfriend _ right in front of him and gets away with it.

 

Myungsoo laughs loudly, as if he can’t even believe that was what happened—sometimes Sungyeol wonders how Myungsoo is so damn  _ oblivious  _ to how attractive he is—until he notices Sungyeol isn’t laughing along.

 

“He wasn’t,” Myungsoo clears his throat, a frown starting to form on his face.

 

Sungyeol tries not to sigh in exasperation. Honestly. “He did everything but ask for your number. He probably would have had I not showed up,” he replies, tossing the pizza box on top of their dining table and taking a seat.

 

“Are you sure—”

 

“There’s a reason why Sungyeol hyung always answers the door,” a voice speaks from behind, and the two turn around to see Sungjong walk in. He lets out a yawn and plops down into a chair, opening the box of pizza. “I think we should order Chinese next time, personally, how are neither of you tired of pizza yet?” he mutters under his breath.

 

Sungyeol clicks his tongue. “That’s not your call to make, Sungjongie,” he says, tone saccharine. He ignores the middle finger the youngest shows him and grabs a slice, biting into it. Next time they’re ordering pizza. Again, sure, but Sungyeol needs to see that delivery boy. 

 

Just to have a little talk, that’s all. 

  
  


-

  
  


For reasons Sungyeol will never understand, Myungsoo likes to go outside to take pictures. Of nature, of people, of buildings, of anything. It makes Myungsoo happy, and his eyes always light up like the brightest stars when he’s talking about it, so Sungyeol never says anything about it. It’s also the perfect time for Sungyeol to order pizza. With Myungsoo out and Sungjong’s help, Sungyeol believes he’ll be done with the boy by the time Myungsoo comes back.

 

Done talking to him, of course, nothing more.

 

“You’re...serious,” Sungjong begins slowly, head tilted in curiosity. He doesn’t seem disgusted or horrified, at the very least, but there aren’t many things that truly horrify Sungjong. He’s the one that has horror movie marathons that last a fucking week, around Halloween, with every single light in the mansion off and doesn’t scream or jump. Sungyeol swears he’s even heard him  _ laughing _ . 

 

Sungyeol shrugs, drumming his fingers onto the denim of his jeans. “Completely serious. I want him gone.”

 

Sungjong seems to be in the middle of thought now, and Sungyeol only keeps back a sigh, grabbing the bottle of wine on the table and pouring himself a glass. If Sungjong takes more than two minutes he swears he’s doing this himself—

 

“Alright, I’ll help,” Sungjong finally answers, a neutral look on his face. “Just a question, though. Is this only because he hit on Myungsoo hyung?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

 

The question makes Sungyeol pause. He isn’t happy at the boy for flirting with Myungsoo, no, but...

 

When he really thinks about it, Sungyeol’s just bored. He thinks this would make his life more interesting. Spice it up or something? Eh.

 

He gives another shrug. “I dunno. Maybe not,” he gives, throwing back the glass of wine and licking his lips. 

 

Sungjong laughs. “So you want to kill a poor unsuspecting delivery boy for the hell of it?” 

 

Well, when you put it  _ that _ way...

 

Sungyeol tries to search deep down into himself for any guilt or fear at what he’s going to do, and doesn’t know what to think when he comes up with nothing. Well then.

 

“So, what’s the plan?” Sungjong questions, reaching over to fill his own glass of wine.

 

“You’re good with a crossbow, right?” Sungyeol smiles widely, gums showing.

  
  


-

  
  


The nametag on the pizza delivery boy’s shirt reads Minjun. Now that Sungyeol gets a better look at him, he sees the boy has choppily cropped blonde hair and is wearing a pink jacket over his delivery uniform. Sungyeol tries to keep back a grimace at having something in common with this boy: a love for pink.

 

“Pizza again?” the boy—Minjun—asks, a bit hesitantly, as if he’s afraid Sungyeol’s going to snap at him or shove him out like last time.

 

Hah, if only he knew.

 

“My boyfriend is just such a huge fan of your pizza,” Sungyeol begins to gush, proud that he’s going to finally put his acting major skills to use. “He eats all the time, it’s hard getting him to stop,” he chuckles, inwardly enjoying the way the boy slightly freezes at a certain word.  _ Gotcha _ .

 

“Boyfriend? O-oh, thank you,” Minjun rushes out, holding out the box.

 

“Yeah, the guy that answered the door the other day. And I have to apologize for my reaction then...I was just a bit under the weather and took it out on you, I’m terribly sorry,” Sungyeol puts on an apologetic face, grabbing the box and gently depositing the money into the delivery boy’s hand. 

 

“Ah...he’s...quite handsome. And it’s okay, really,” Minjun says quietly, shoving the money into his pocket.

 

“Isn’t he?” Sungyeol smiles. “But anyway, would you like to come in and have a drink or something? I really want to make up for my behavior the other day.” If there weren’t a pizza box in his hands he’d even go as far as to put his hands together to further convince the boy, but he supposes this is good enough. 

 

Minjun seems surprised, and he rubs the back of his head gingerly. “I couldn’t, I have another delivery to make and I don’t want to—”

 

“It’ll be short, I promise. Just a glass of wine or beer or whatever you want is fine with me. Sungjong can join us too! Sungjong also lives here. It’s just the three of us.” Sungyeol makes sure to show his gums again. He’s been told it makes him seem utterly harmless, to have such a wide smile.

 

Minjun finally seems to give in as his shoulders relax and he nods. “But I can’t stay long, really!” He seems to have brightened up now, and Sungyeol almost feels for the poor boy.  _ Almost. _

 

Sungyeol steps aside to let him walk in and closes the door. A small smirk twists at his lips as he guides him further into their mansion to the dining room. “That won’t be a problem, Minjun-ssi. No problem at all.”

  
  


-

  
  


Sungjong descends into the dining room with all the grace he has, which in Sungyeol’s opinion is none whatsoever (though, admittedly, more than Myungsoo), and Sungyeol has to keep back a laugh at the way the delivery boy’s eyes widen. 

 

“This is Sungjong,” Sungyeol introduces, only to belatedly realize he hasn’t even told the delivery boy his own name. “I’m Sungyeol, by the way,” he adds. “My boyfriend is Myungsoo, but he’s currently out and won’t be back for a while. I’m afraid you’ll miss him.” A touch of sadness seeps into his voice. God, he should get paid for this.

 

“I-It’s okay! It’s nice to meet you both. I’m sure I’ll see him the next time I deliver, huh?” Minjun asks with a laugh.

 

Sungyeol and Sungjong exchange a glance. Next time? How cute.

 

“Of course you will,” Sungyeol reassures him, opening the box and giving him another disarming smile. “Have a slice.”

 

The plan is simple: Sungyeol treats the boy to some pizza and a drink of his choice (hopefully soju or wine to make things a bit easier). While he’s distracted by Sungyeol going on about something or another, Sungjong slips away with an excuse to go to the bathroom to cut off the power, and while the mansion is pitch black, Sungyeol ties a blindfold around Minjun's eyes. The power “miraculously” comes back on, and it’s a fucking cake walk from there.

 

Sungyeol just hopes Myungsoo doesn’t decide to cut his trip outside short. He doesn’t know how he’d explain this if he were caught; he’s not too sure  _ “it sounded like fun” _ would be a good enough answer.

 

“What would you like to drink? We have most things, so whatever you want.” Sungyeol’s face is starting to hurt from smiling so much. This show needs to get on the fucking road.

 

In between mouthfuls of pizza, Sungyeol barely catches a “soju, please, Sungyeol-ssi”, and he almost drops to his knees to thank the Lord. Instead, he flashes yet another goddamn smile and stands up, making his way to the kitchen.

 

The clock on the stove reads that it’s just after six in the afternoon and Sungyeol rummages around the fridge for a bottle of soju, thankful they had just gotten one earlier that day. He and Myungsoo have more of a penchant for wine, but Sungjong usually makes sure they have something else stocked up.

 

Grabbing a few shot glasses, Sungyeol strolls back to the dining room to see Sungjong and Minjun in conversation. 

 

“Here.” Sungyeol sets down the objects in his hands and begins pouring soju into the glasses.

 

Minjun seems reluctant to take the glass, now, and Sungyeol frowns. What the hell did Sungjong say to him?

 

“On second thought...I don’t think I should be drinking on the job. It’s inappropriate,” Minjun brings up, a sheepish smile on his face.

 

“It’ll be our little secret,” Sungjong winks, putting a finger to his lips. Sungyeol doesn’t miss the way Minjun’s cheeks blush and he’s trying  _ so  _ hard not to just laugh out loud. Pretty boys are his type, huh?

 

“Just one or two, and that’s it,” Minjun quickly gives in.

 

Sungyeol swears if he has to smile one more time he’s going to fucking lose it, but he does so, sliding over a glass in the boy’s direction as he takes his seat again. “Cheers,” he replies, holding up his glass. Sungjong and Minjun both take theirs and knock their glasses against Sungyeol’s.

 

They all down their glasses and Sungyeol wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He thinks they need to get at least two or three more shots into Minjun before they begin. Before the boy has time to say anything, Sungyeol has all of their glasses refilled. His tolerance isn’t the best, but it’s not like he gets drunk off of a few shots. That’s Myungsoo.

 

(Myungsoo used to be able to knock back  _ bottles _ of soju and vodka without feeling it, but one night it was like he suddenly lost the ability to handle his alcohol. Sungyeol can’t help but feel a bit smug that he can out-drink him now. Sungjong’s in a whole other league compared to the two of them, but whatever.)

 

“This one and one more, alright? That’ll be it, I promise.” 

 

Sungyeol is also really trying  _ so _ hard not to gag at how Sungjong is obviously subtly flirting with the boy. It’s even worse that the boy is falling for it: hook, line, and sinker. Though Sungyeol supposes it could be him in Sungjong’s place, if the blonde hadn’t agreed, and a disgusted look flashes across his face. 

 

He quickly drowns his refilled glass. 

 

“You...have a nice place.” Sungyeol had almost forgotten Minjun even spoke, with how quiet he had been for the past few minutes. He either must be enjoying the pizza or even more intolerant with soju than Myungsoo. The thought makes him snort.

 

“Yeah, quite nice,” he makes up with a laugh, pretending that had been in response to the boy’s comment. Sungjong gives him a look and he rolls his eyes, refilling their glasses again. 

 

“What do you guys do?” 

 

This is a lot more talking than Sungyeol had planned, damnit. “I—”

 

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” Sungjong interrupts, and Sungyeol honestly could kiss him. But that would be gross, because they’re like brothers and Sungyeol is very happy with Myungsoo. But still.

 

“Don’t take forever in there like usual,” Sungyeol says dryly, lips curving upwards at the glare he receives. Minjun actually lets out a chuckle. Good, laughing means he’s comfortable. The soju is doing its work.

 

Sungyeol goes back to his slice of pizza, practically shoving it into his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything. 

 

Two minutes pass of Sungyeol switching between soju and pizza, and he swears he’s going to kill Sungjong instead if that little brat doesn’t turn the fucking power—

 

As if someone could read his mind, the mansion is suddenly shrouded in darkness. Thank  _ God _ .

 

It’s showtime.

 

“Huh—what happened?” Minjun asks. 

 

Sungyeol stands up, thankful he can navigate this place with his eyes closed if need be. “Ah, just a power outage, I think,” he murmurs. “I’m going to go get some candles as our phones won’t be enough light, you stay here. You don’t need to be wandering around as you don’t know your way.”

 

There’s a silence, and Sungyeol bets the boy had just nodded his head. He resists the urge to snort again. 

 

“Yeah, of course,” Minjun verbalises, and Sungyeol slowly makes his way towards the living room. He pulls out his phone and goes through his apps, turning on the flashlight as he dashes up the staircase. Myungsoo has multiple black ties Sungyeol can turn into a blindfold, this should be no problem.

 

As he walks into their shared bedroom, he hears a creak from downstairs, but brushes it off thinking it’s the place settling or something. It is a mansion after all, it makes all kinds of noises.

“Yeollie? Why is everything so dark?”

 

_ Fuck _ . Why the fuck is Myungsoo here now? 

 

Sungyeol lets out numerous curses inside his head and drops down to his knees in front of their clothes drawer. “Power outage, I’ll be down in a minute!” he shouts. He pulls out a drawer and sifts through it, shining his phone flashlight onto the collection of black ties within. God bless Myungsoo’s love for the color.

 

Sungyeol triumphantly holds up two black ties and stands up, kicking the drawer shut as he quickly rushes down the stairs. He shoves the ties into his back pocket and practically runs straight into Myungsoo, who yelps and holds his camera above his head to protect it.

 

Sometimes Sungyeol thinks he loves that thing more than him.

 

“Why’s the power out? All the streetlights are still on,” Myungsoo’s confused, and Sungyeol just hooks an arm through his boyfriend’s as he leads him back into the dining room. Myungsoo rests his head on Sungyeol’s shoulder, allowing him to let out a small smile.

 

“You know how weird this place is,” Sungyeol dismisses, and shines his phone right into Minjun’s face. “We have a guest, Soo. Don’t be rude,” he chides.

 

The delivery boy scrunches his eyes up, putting his hands in front of his face to shield it from the sudden light.

 

“Guest? Who—?”

 

“Our local delivery boy, of course. I felt bad for the other day and invited him to stay for a while. It’s a shame the power went out though,” Sungyeol sighs, letting go of Myungsoo’s arm. “Have a seat, Soo. There’s pizza and soju.”

 

Sungyeol can’t see Myungsoo’s expression right now, and he takes a short deep breath as he positions himself behind Minjun’s chair. Showtime.

 

He hadn’t planned on doing this in front of Myungsoo, but it’ll have to do. He can’t even see well right now, anyway. Pulling out a tie, he quickly wraps it around Minjun’s head, over his eyes, and ties it tight. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough for it not to budge.

 

The man lets out a surprised shout, and Sungyeol pushes down the hands reaching up to take off the blindfold. He pulls them behind Minjun’s back and takes out the last tie, tying the boy’s wrists together.

 

“H-hey, Sungyeol-ssi, what—”

 

“You know what you did, Minjun-ssi?” Sungyeol asks innocently.

 

There’s a pause. “N-no?”

 

“Sungyeollie—?”

 

“Shh,” Sungyeol moves his phone to shine it in Myungsoo’s direction. Myungsoo’s staring at him with a mixture of confusion and fear, and there’s a thought in Sungyeol’s head that maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. He quickly gets rid of it. “Nobody gets away with what they did in front of me that day, you know that. You’re not some object for men and women to ogle over, automatically assuming you’re single and would be comfortable with that in the first place.”

 

Sungyeol’s aware what he’s saying is bullshit and makes him quite the hypocrite, as before they had started dating, he had tried many pickup lines and subtle flirting tactics on Myungsoo that his friend Woohyun thought would work. They had, obviously (and surprisingly), otherwise he and Myungsoo wouldn’t even be together right now.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Minjun snaps, finally seeming to get over his nervousness.

 

The lights flicker back on at this moment, and Sungyeol turns off the flashlight app on his phone, pocketing it. “Myungsoo’s my boyfriend, I’m sure I told you that earlier,” he muses. He’s come this far. If he lets the boy go he’ll probably call the police and an arrest on his extremely clean record would bum Sungyeol out.

 

“Sungyeol, it’s okay, I swear,” Myungsoo blurts. “It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened.”

 

Sungyeol’s aware of the attention Myungsoo gets. Sungyeol gets his fair share too; they’re a pair of really fucking attractive men, and he’d dare anyone to argue, but Sungyeol can handle it when he’s hit on. Depending on how they go about it, he either lets them down gently or coldly and it’s no big deal. He just can’t handle it when it happens to Myungsoo. He doesn’t think it’s possessiveness, no—Myungsoo isn’t his to claim just as the opposite is true, but...

 

Sungyeol can’t explain this urge, this feeling he has that’s settled in his stomach.

 

Sungyeol notices Myungsoo hasn’t gone to help the boy yet, which is a bit of a surprise in itself. He knows Myungsoo can’t say no to him (and vice versa), so if he hasn’t made the move to free him, all he needs is a little convincing.

 

“You tied my hands and blindfolded me just because I flirted with your boyfriend?” Minjun sounds incredulous. “You fucking psycho—”

 

Sungyeol makes a ‘tsk’ sound with his tongue, grabbing Minjun’s face. “That’s not completely it, if I’m being honest,” he considers. “It just sounded fun.”

 

“Fun? You really are a psycho, let me go you sick fuck—”

 

Sungyeol sighs, tightening his grip on the boy’s face. “It’s not nice to call someone names, Minjun-ssi, especially someone who generously invited you into their home for a drink and some food.”

 

“Generously?! Do you not see—”

 

“Jesus Christ, tape his mouth shut.” Sungjong makes his entrance with a roll of duct tape in his hands. He tosses it to Sungyeol, who thankfully catches it. 

 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he says with a grin, only for Sungjong to roll his eyes and wave his hand around.

 

“Sungjongie? You’re in on this too?” Myungsoo’s eyes are drifting back and forth between the two, occasionally moving to the tied up Minjun. He still hasn’t moved to help the poor boy, which Sungyeol finds quite telling.

 

Sungyeol pulls a large enough piece of tape and rips it, slamming it over Minjun’s mouth. Screams immediately start being muffled and Sungyeol’s the one to roll his eyes this time. He really should’ve thought of that sooner.

 

“Hyung convinced me,” Sungjong shrugs his shoulders as if Sungyeol had convinced him to ride a tall rollercoaster and not  _ murder _ someone.

 

“Convinced you? To what? Yeollie, I don’t—”

 

Minjun takes this moment to stand up, the chair on his back, and Sungyeol lets out a groan. Why is he making this so hard? 

 

“You can’t see, where do you think you’re going?” Sungyeol questions, voice a mix between curious and frigid. 

 

Sungjong smiles and walks over to the two, grabbing Minjun’s shoulders and pushing him back down. The delivery boy lets out a noise underneath the tape and Sungjong digs his nails in, beginning to hum. Sungyeol recognizes it as Girls’ Generation’s “I Got A Boy” and his lips curve upwards. The noise gets louder.

 

“You haven’t gone to help him, Myungsoo-yah.” Sungyeol turns to observe his boyfriend. Myungsoo’s face has too many emotions fleeting across it for Sungyeol to pinpoint just exactly what he feels, but he doesn’t think Myungsoo is the most opposed to this.

 

That sentence, however, seems to get Myungsoo out of whatever stupor he’s in. “I just...he’s...you were in the way.” It’s the weakest, most pathetic excuse Myungsoo has, and Sungyeol doesn’t want to laugh as to not offend him. He walks over and runs a hand through his hair instead, enjoying the way the straightened silky strands slide through his fingers. 

 

“Don’t you think it’ll be fun, baby?” he asks gently. “Nobody will know. Sungjong can aim a crossbow, I’m not too shabby at throwing knives, and you can have the first taste. How does that sound?” 

 

“Taste? We’re not vampires, Sungyeol,” Myungsoo sounds disgusted, and Sungyeol really does laugh. Oh, how he loves Myungsoo. So much.

 

“I don’t mean literally, dumbass,” he grins, a genuine one, slinging an arm around his shoulders. This is fine, this is their normal behavior. If Myungsoo’s being like this already, then Sungyeol believes it’s a go. Honestly, he believed it would’ve taken a lot longer than this.

 

Myungsoo crosses his arms. “You’re the one who trapped a delivery boy, tied him up and taped his mouth shut,” he points out. “What happens next is usually blood drinking or some shit.”

 

Sungyeol snorts. “Some shit? I guess,” he agrees.

 

Myungsoo glances away from him to look at Minjun still in his chair, Sungjong above him and grasping his shoulders so tight Sungyeol’s positive he’s drawing blood. Damn, he wanted to be the first to do that.

 

“So? What do you say?” Sungyeol stands behind him to whisper in his ear. He can’t help but smile at the way Myungsoo shivers slightly. 

 

“I would say you’ve been reading too much horror manhwa,” Myungsoo replies, the smartass.

 

Sungyeol leans down to nip at his neck. If Myungsoo wants vampires...

 

“Yeol!” 

 

“God, get a fucking room,” Sungjong calls out with one of the most repulsed faces he can muster.

 

Sungyeol chuckles, feeling Myungsoo’s skin underneath his lips. “We have one. One that we can go to right this second, you know.”

 

Sungjong just stares at him, a completely unimpressed look on his face. “Not a chance. You’re the one that started this,” he says.

 

Okay, he has a point. Sungyeol very much just wants to take Myungsoo upstairs but he supposes that can wait until after they’ve had their fun with Minjun. Since Myungsoo had arrived unexpectedly, he hadn’t expected to get this far. And since he has no problems one way or the other...

 

“Aren’t you a black belt?” Sungyeol painstakingly takes his mouth away from Myungsoo’s neck to ask, straightening his body. (He’s not going to say it out loud but his back was starting to hurt too. Nobody has to know that.)

 

Myungsoo hums an affirmative. “Haven’t done martial arts in years though. Why?”

 

Sungyeol chews thoughtfully on his bottom lip. “You’re good with nunchucks, aren’t you?” he answers with another question.

 

It looks like Minjun finally decided to stop squirming and screaming as the tied form in the chair is still, Sungjong’s grip every so slightly loosened from before. Sungyeol figured he would’ve given up sooner, especially with the soju he had taken. Although maybe he was a bolder, stronger drunk instead of the opposite.

 

“Yeah...where’s this going?” Myungsoo sounds more curious than confused, and Sungyeol inwardly preens. Good boyfriend. Very good boyfriend.

 

“Nothing,” Sungyeol murmurs, an idea mulling around in his head. “If he tries to escape you can handle him. I’ll be right back. Jongie, come with me.”

 

Sungyeol knows the look Sungjong is giving him is literally asking him why the hell he’s leaving Myungsoo with Minjun, but Sungyeol pleads with his eyes. The youngest hesitantly steps away from the chair the delivery boy is in and follows Sungyeol out of the dining room and up the stairs.

 

“Do you seriously think hyung is going to be able to keep him down there?” Sungjong hisses.

 

Sungyeol sighs, ruffling the blonde’s hair. “Oh, ye of little faith. I trust Myungsoo. He was just scared at first—who wouldn’t be in his situation? He won’t let the boy leave.” He sounds sure of himself, and he is, but there’s a tiny voice in the back of his head saying this had been a terrible idea. He shakes it away and comes upon his and Myungsoo’s bedroom again.

 

“I would prefer  _ not _ to step foot into the room you two fuck loudly in,” Sungjong utters in disgust, keeping himself right outside of the door.

 

Fucking brat. “Very funny,” Sungyeol mumbles, walking to the bathroom and opening a cabinet. He grabs the item he had been looking for and grins, exiting the rooms.

 

“Why do you—is that one of those old-fashioned razors? The fuck do you have one of those for?” Sungjong actually seems bewildered and Sungyeol’s grin widens. 

 

He shrugs his shoulders as he walks back down the stairs. 

 

“What do you plan to do with it?” Sungjong presses on.

 

“That’s for me to know and you to find—”

 

Sungyeol’s voice is cut off as he comes upon the dining room. 

 

It’s...definitely safe to say he had no reason to think Myungsoo would let the boy leave.

 

In the time Sungyeol and Sungjong had been gone, Myungsoo had slapped two extra pieces of duct tape onto Minjun’s mouth. There’s a cut on his right cheek, the wound still bleeding and dripping down his neck.

 

A knife from the kitchen is in Myungsoo’s hand, the man staring at Minjun as he tilts his head. 

 

“Holy shit,” Sungjong breathes out. Ever so eloquent, huh, but he had taken the words literally right out of Sungyeol’s mouth. Sungyeol would be lying if he said he wasn’t a  _ tiny _ bit turned on right now.

 

“Ch-change of heart?” Sungyeol hates how his fucking voice cracks. Damnit.

 

Myungsoo glances over his shoulder to look at the two of them, a dimpled smile on his face. Like he just hadn’t cut the pizza delivery guy’s face with a knife. Oh boy. “Wasn’t this your plan all along, Yeollie?” he raises an eyebrow. “You told me I’d get the first taste, so to speak.”

 

Sungyeol loves Myungsoo  _ so much _ . All he really wants to do right now is go up to Myungsoo and kiss him senseless but that can wait until later. He hopes he can wait until later, anyway.

 

“Indeed I did,” he clears his throat, glancing down at the razor in his hand. It’s funny, how he and Myungsoo had pretty much the same idea, just with different objects. They’ve been together for so many years after all, he supposes it’s not a surprise they’d start thinking alike.

 

A loud clunk alerts the three back to the boy, who has apparently figured out how to get up with the chair off of him. He had rushed right by Myungsoo, whom Sungyeol has never seen look so displeased. It takes him a shorter amount of time to reach the front door than Minjun, and Myungsoo clicks his tongue as he extends one of his long legs.

 

In any other situation it would’ve been hilarious: the boy promptly trips over Myungsoo’s leg, ending up sprawled out over the linoleum entryway. It still is hilarious, Sungyeol won’t lie, except for the way Myungsoo squats down in front of the boy and grabs his hair. “You know better than to escape, hm?” he asks. “Do you need me to finish giving you that shave, Minjun-ssi?” he murmurs, face dangerously close to Minjun’s.

 

Sungyeol is really fucking confused as to how turned on he should be at this. Is he a freak if he is?

 

Minjun makes noises behind the tape, quickly shaking his head. Myungsoo smiles, one where his dimples aren’t quite as prominent, and he stands up. He gives the boy’s knee a nudge with his foot. “You can get up yourself, can’t you? Or maybe Sungjongie or Yeollie can help?”

 

That seems to jumpstart the boy into action as he scrambles along the floor with his tied up hands, sitting up.

 

“Watching this is pathetic,” Sungjong sighs, apparently deciding to pity the boy. “Why didn’t you tie his legs?” he wonders, pulling onto the boy’s arm to get him off of the floor and standing up.

 

Sungyeol hadn’t been thinking of shit like that, he had honestly only planned on blindfolding him but then remembered even with no sight he would’ve still been able to get out. Binding his hands made him slower. He’s not going to admit he didn’t think this all the way, completely through.

 

“Not important,” Sungyeol replies. 

 

Sungjong rolls his eyes. “You won’t try to escape again, will you?” he asks the boy.

 

There’s a shake of the head.

 

“Good!” Myungsoo exclaims. “Onto the main event, right?” He seems much more eager now, and, really, Sungyeol is  _ so fucking confused _ . Does he start an impromptu makeout session with Myungsoo or continue on with the plan? It’s actually a fucking hard choice, okay.

 

But on second thought—he doesn’t want to start an impromptu makeout session with Myungsoo in the same room as Sungjong and two potential weapons. Nevermind then.

 

“Onto the main event,” Sungyeol repeats, sliding an arm around Myungsoo’s waist. “How do you want to do this?”

 

Myungsoo looks up at him, blinking. “I thought you had a plan.”

 

He  _ does _ , Sungyeol just thought it was polite to ask.

 

“I do,” Sungyeol nods his head. “Only asking if you had any other ideas. Jongie, there’s a crossbow down in the basement.” 

 

Speaking of ideas, Sungyeol knows it’s probably not the best one to order Sungjong to go down into their hugeass basement that’s filled with who knows what at this point, but there’s a part of Sungyeol that wants to see if Myungsoo will finish giving Minjun his so-called  _ shave _ .

 

There’s an exhilarated thrumming in his chest, and he thinks he feels alive, for the first time in a while. It’s ironic, considering the obvious, but Sungyeol doesn’t care.

 

“If something tries to eat me down there I’m killing you instead of him,” Sungjong growls out.

 

“Love you too,” Sungyeol smiles, giving Sungjong a wave as he disappears into the door under the staircase.

 

“Our guest is being awfully quiet,” Sungyeol notes. “Is he falling asleep? I think he needs something to wake up, don’t you, Mingsoo-yah?” he teases.

 

The nickname causes Myungsoo’s face to color, but his grip tightens on the bloodied knife in his hands. “I think so too, Yeollie,” he agrees. 

 

The two walk their way over to Minjun, shoving him back over to the chair he had toppled over. Sungyeol sighs as he sets it back up in place, pushing the boy back onto it. “I thought you had enough sense not to escape, but I guess I was wrong,” he murmurs. “Myungsoo?”

 

Muffled noises start behind the tape again, causing Sungyeol to frown in thought. “Think we should let him speak?” he asks.

 

Myungsoo’s already raising his knife to the other side of Minjun’s face. He pauses to shrug. “All he’d do is scream and beg for his life.” The sentence is way too nonchalant for the situation at hand and Sungyeol barks out a laugh. 

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he concedes.

 

Myungsoo flashes him a smile, eyes pushed up into crescent moons, and Sungyeol damn near sighs with love. It’s ridiculous, how cute Myungsoo can look when he’s one second away from slicing the face of a delivery boy.

 

Sungyeol never in his life believed he would think those words.

 

Myungsoo places the blade of the knife on Minjun’s left cheek, causing muffled noises to immediately start behind the tape covering the boy’s mouth.

 

“This won’t hurt, I promise,” Myungsoo lies straight through his teeth, pressing the knife in so it breaks the skin and sliding it down. “It’s just to match the one on your other side,” he says like he’s talking about the weather.

 

Sungyeol hears a scream and lets out a chuckle, walking towards the two. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, causing him to let out a startled shout and drop the knife.

 

“Yeol,” Myungsoo whines, reaching down to grab the knife that had fallen to the floor, blood splattering across the hardwood. “You made the cut longer than I wanted,” he scolds, but there’s a playful lilt to his tone.

 

Sungyeol hears footsteps before he gets to respond, and knows that’s Sungjong. Hopefully back with a crossbow.

 

“Do you know how much dust is in that place? Spiders too, you’re paying for my next salon trip with all of the cobwebs that got into my hair.” Sungjong’s grumbling as the footsteps get closer.

 

If Sungyeol had a won note for every time Sungjong complained about his hair, he’s pretty sure it would be enough to buy the fucking brat a salon for himself.

 

“Do you have the crossbow?” Sungyeol asks, exasperated.

 

“Yes, asshole,” Sungjong snaps. “I even wiped it...mostly clean.”

 

He’s good for something, at least.

 

“This is the grand finale, then?” Myungsoo questions, twirling the knife around between his fingers. Sungyeol can’t help but grimace as it causes blood to fly onto the surrounding area and he’s not too keen on Myungsoo playing with a weapon slash kitchen utensil as if it’s a goddamned fidget spinner or something.

 

“I suppose,” Sungyeol speaks, resting his chin on Myungsoo’s shoulder. He has to lean down a bit, but Myungsoo’s body is warm. It always is, like he’s some sort of personal heater, and Sungyeol definitely doesn’t mind during the colder months.

 

“So is Sungjongie doing the honors? How do you even know how to aim well with a crossbow, anyway?” Myungsoo is in disbelief.

 

“I’ve never asked you why you’re so good with nunchucks, have I?” His trip down to the basement apparently turned Sungjong into an even bigger smartass than he usually is. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.

 

“Only asking,” Myungsoo mutters, slightly putout.

 

Sungyeol frowns, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “You know not to mind him,” he says quietly, then steps away from his boyfriend to clear his throat. “The backyard good enough?” He throws over his shoulder to the youngest of the three.

 

“Probably,” Sungjong shrugs. There’s indeed a crossbow under the crook of his arm; Sungyeol’s only the tiniest amount curious as to why they even had one in their basement, but he remembers coming across it one of the few times he’s gone down there. If only he knew what it’d really be used for.

 

A stifled noise rings out and Sungyeol looks back at the boy to see Myungsoo lifting him off of the chair and grasping onto his shoulders, the hilt of his weapon still in one hand, dangerously close to scraping the boy’s jaw.

 

Sungyeol mentally notes that he should  _ never _ cross Myungsoo. It’s hard to make him mad as it is, but after tonight, Sungyeol doesn’t want to see what would happen if Myungsoo ever truly got as pissed off as he could be at someone.

 

(Or maybe he does. As long as he’s not on the receiving end, of course.)

 

The trio walk through the mansion to the large set of sliding doors leading to the backyard.

 

It’s pretty normal as far as backyards go, especially one for a house of this stature. It leads into a forest, with a couple of large trees, an outside table with some chairs...there’s a grill too, but Sungyeol sure as hell has never used it. There’s a reason they order takeout more often than not. Sometimes Myungsoo feels up to fixing some sort of beef, but other than that...

 

“Edge of the yard,” Sungjong instructs Myungsoo, nodding his head towards Minjun. He shifts the crossbow to his right hand.

 

Sungyeol’s eyes raise to the full moon currently high up in the sky, not even realizing there was supposed to be one tonight. What a coincidence.

 

“You’re not going to use that thing while I’m behind him, are you?” Myungsoo calls out as he leads the boy further down the yard. “I’d rather not get hit instead—”

 

“Yah. I already told you, I have great aim, thank you very much.” Sungjong’s own eyes narrow into a glare. 

 

All of the lights currently on in the mansion, along with the outside lights, should hopefully allow Sungjong to see better than he would have if they were just doing this with only the moonlight to guide them. Even with that reassurance, however, Sungyeol can see the way Myungsoo looks like he doesn’t trust Sungjong to not shoot him in the forehead instead.

 

Myungsoo has Minjun in position, hands placed on his shoulders. “Ready for the big finale, Minjun-ssi? Wasn’t it such a fun night?” he asks gleefully, obviously not expecting an answer due to the tape over the boy’s mouth.

 

There’s a muffled shout of some words against the tape, and Sungyeol grimaces in distaste at the sound. It’s grating his ears. “Hurry up, Mister Perfect Aim,” he says, leaning against the deck railing and crossing his arms.

 

If Sungjong gives a response or look, Sungyeol ignores it. This took so much more longer than he had planned, but  _ finally _ it’s showtime.

 

“Sorry, Minjun-ssi,” Sungjong speaks up, not sounding sorry at all. “You just happened to deliver to the wrong house, it’s not your fault,” he shrugs his shoulders and nocks an arrow securely into the weapon.

 

Sungyeol couldn’t tell you the first thing about using a crossbow, and hopes to God Sungjong honestly knows what he’s doing. He’s not sure they can afford a fuck up; how many arrows are there, even?

 

“On the count of three. Step back, hyung,” Sungjong exclaims, lifting up the crossbow.

 

“Please don’t hit me instead,” Myungsoo’s voice is faint from the back of the yard.

 

Sungyeol sees Sungjong rolls his eyes. He doesn’t think the youngest is going to be doing them anymore favors for a while after this...whatever this is.

 

“One...two...” Sungjong begins counting in a murmur, peeking into the scope.

 

There’s one more scream the moment Sungjong gets to “three”, Myungsoo immediately taking multiple steps back and to the side to get out of Sungjong’s line of vision.

 

Sungjong pulls the trigger and the arrow soars through the air. It makes impact with Minjun, the boy falling right onto the ground.

 

The darkened sky doesn’t do anything to help Sungyeol see whether or not Sungjong had hit his intended target, and he begins walking towards the collapsed body when “bullseye!” is shouted from Myungsoo’s mouth.

 

“Are you sure?” It’s not that Sungyeol doesn’t believe him, he just thinks all of them should check, just in case. They seriously can’t afford a fuckup.

 

Myungsoo is knelt down on the ground beside Minjun’s body, having ripped off the tape and put a hand in front of his mouth. “He’s not breathing, Yeollie,” he answers.

 

Oh. Well— 

 

“Positive?” Sungyeol  _ has _ to make sure.

 

Myungsoo gives him a look. “I think I can tell whether or not someone is  _ alive, _ Sungyeol. His heart isn’t beating,” he deadpans.

 

Sungyeol lifts his hands up in surrender. Alright, he’s definitely not getting on Myungsoo’s bad side in the future. “I know, I’m not doubting you. This is just something we need to be 100% positive on, right?” He manages a smile.

 

“See, what did I tell you? I have great aim,” Sungjong brags, a proud look on his face. The crossbow is back under his arm, and he stares down at Minjun’s body with a contemplative look. “What are we doing with this?”

 

If he’s being truthful, Sungyeol didn’t think he would get this far. There are so many things that could’ve gone wrong, and he figured something would have. It’s not like they can just stash the boy in the basement, it would start smelling and attract all kinds of gross things eventually...

 

“Can we take his shirt?” Myungsoo requests, eyes bright. “As a sort of souvenir, or something.”

 

Sungyeol’s starting to realize he should’ve just let Myungsoo in on the plan from the beginning, if his reactions after getting used to everything are any clue. Oh well. Live and learn, he supposes. Maybe next time.

 

The thought of a next time causes the excitement in Sungyeol’s body to pound louder, and he licks his drying lips.

 

“A souvenir,” Sungjong repeats. “Of a dead boy’s shirt. What type of manga do you even  _ read _ ?” he asks in disbelief.

 

Sungyeol arches an eyebrow, inwardly shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Don’t act like you just didn’t shoot said boy in the heart with a fucking arrow,” he points out. “A souvenir sounds fine, Soo-yah. We should probably wash it, though...” his voice trails off as he studies the blood stains on Minjun’s red and green delivery shirt. Does regular detergent get that much blood out? He sure hopes so.

 

“So, hello, what do we do with the soon to be rotting corpse in our backyard?” Sungjong directs the topic back to the problem at hand, gesturing towards said body.

 

“Burn it,” Myungsoo suggests with a shrug. “It’d get rid of all evidence.”

 

Sungyeol inwardly says  _ to hell with it _ and grabs Myungsoo’s face, kissing him deeply. “You’re a genius.”

 

“Have I told you how much I fucking hate you two?” Sungjong hisses.

 

Sungyeol chuckles and pulls away. “It’s not a normal day if you don’t. But Myungsoo’s right. We set up a fire back here and do it that way. It’ll...smell, obviously,” he grimaces at the thought. “It’s a good thing we’re the only place within miles, huh,” he mutters. 

 

“What’s the upside to living in an inherited mansion with no neighbors for a ten mile radius? Hm, not much, but at least nobody can smell the stench of burning flesh in our yard,” Sungjong says sarcastically.

 

“Have any better ideas, Jongie?” Myungsoo’s tone is overly sweet, but sounds dangerously close to snapping.

 

Sungyeol would be lying if he said he weren’t interested in it actually happening. He’s not on the receiving end, after all.

 

Sungjong seems to sense Myungsoo’s mood change and visibly swallows. “None at all,” he yields.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Myungsoo smiles.

  
  


-

  
  


Burning the body goes on without a hitch. The smell, of course, fucking  _ reeks _ like nothing else Sungyeol’s ever smelled before, and takes more time than he wanted to disappear, but everything is done and their hands are washed clean (literally and figuratively). He even indulges in Myungsoo’s request to keep the shirt, which is now washed and pinned up into a picture frame that’s set in one of the glass cases they have in the dining room.

 

They haven’t talked about that night since it happened, after everything was said and done. The feeling of exhilaration that Sungyeol had had that night is gone too, and he doesn’t know if he should breach the subject or not. It’s like they’re purposefully avoiding the fact that they had trapped a poor teenaged delivery boy and killed him, all due to Sungyeol’s crazyass idea. Things with Myungsoo are even a bit strained—his boyfriend has withdrawn into himself, reminding Sungyeol of the person Myungsoo used to be before they had met. He doesn’t like it, and is unsure of how to bring that up too. This is all his fault, isn’t it?

 

Sungyeol slams his glass of wine down onto the table, running a hand through his hair in frustration. This has to stop. There has to be some way to fix this—

 

“Yeol?” Myungsoo stands at the dining room entrance, hesitant. “I...can we order pizza?” 

 

Sungyeol blinks, surprised. Out of everything he had thought Myungsoo would say, that was one of the last things on his list. “Sure?” It comes out more of a question than an answer itself. They haven’t ordered delivery since that night either, living off of cup ramen or some other instant shit. Sungjong and Sungyeol had plenty of failed attempts of fixing actual food with the stove, but there’s a reason Myungsoo’s usually the cook around there.

 

“Do you want to?” He composes himself, wanting to laugh at how absurd this all is. Being nervous of ordering fucking pizza. Christ.

 

“I’m not an idiot, Lee Sungyeol,” Myungsoo scoffs, walking around the table to take the seat across from him. “You enjoyed doing it. That night.”

 

For a split second, Sungyeol’s mind goes to what exactly he and Myungsoo had done afterwards, the adrenaline pumping in their veins too much to ignore, but he realizes that’s...definitely not what Myungsoo is talking about. Damn.

 

“I—”

 

“I...think I did too,” Myungsoo says slowly, as if he’s thinking over each word in his head before they come out.

_ Oh _ .

 

That’s when everything clicks into place.

 

“You want to...do it again?” Sungyeol’s glad Sungjong is up in his room getting some so-called beauty sleep, otherwise this would be one hell of a conversation to walk in on with no context.

 

Myungsoo bites his lower lip and nods.

 

Sungyeol’s already pulling out his phone. “The usual?” he asks offhandedly, even though he knows he doesn’t need to. He gets another nod and a grin overcomes his face. He leans over the table to give Myungsoo a kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs.

 

Myungsoo rolls his eyes but there’s a bit of color to his cheeks. “I love you too, now order,” he says under his breath, embarrassed.

 

“Yes, sir,” Sungyeol mock-salutes and goes to his contacts to scroll down to one of the many pizza places he has stored.

  
  


-

  
  


“Why don’t you come in? I’m sure it must be tiring driving around and delivering all day long,” Myungsoo pouts his lips slightly. 

 

The boy in front of him is tall, with black hair and a large blue coat over his body, Jinwoo plastered across his nametag. “I don’t know...it’s getting late and—”

 

“Oh come on,” Myungsoo sighs, lowering his gaze to the floor to appear disappointed. “Five minutes won’t hurt, please? You should stretch your legs out somewhere that’s not a cramped car,” he points out, glancing up through his eyelashes.

 

He can’t believe Sungyeol, of all people, had told him to flirt his way into getting the delivery boy to come in, considering how this all began in the first place, but Myungsoo’s not going to argue. He’s always been kinda bad at it, but it  _ is _ fun.

 

Jinwoo bites his lip, and lets out a small sigh of his own. “Alright. Five minutes and nothing more.” There’s now a slight smile on his face.

 

Myungsoo’s pout quickly turns to a dimpled smile in return. “Perfect! Come in, Jinwoo-ssi. I’ll get you something to drink and my housemates can keep you company while you wait, how does that sound?” he offers, stepping aside to let him in.

 

He closes the door behind him with a smirk. Piece of cake.


End file.
